


Those Who Favor Fire

by Mr_Customs_Man



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Dysfunctional Relationships, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-05-01 00:33:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5185439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mr_Customs_Man/pseuds/Mr_Customs_Man
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian is never sure of what he wants. He wants it all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Those Who Favor Fire

Sebastian’s eyes creaked open, almost of their own accord. He peered into the darkness, lying still and silent in the early morning hours. He was miles beneath the city, deep in the bowels of Darktown where no light could penetrate. Sebastian didn’t need to see the position of the moon to tell the time; it was four o'clock in the morning, on the dot. Morning prayers would begin soon. Brother Geoffrey would be grumbling about breakfast, as always, shooting dark looks at Sister Adelaide, who always seemed fresh as a daisy no matter the time. She’d smile and playfully shush him and they would all gather in the oratory to sing the Chant. Grand Cleric Elthina would be leading them, smiling down at them like a doting mother. Sebastian felt a terrible rush of longing; he wanted to be there with them, kneel with them, and laugh with them.

Anders muttered something against his hair. He had mashed his face against his temple during the night, wrapping his long arms around him and clinging. He was like some long, lazy cat, soaking in the heat Sebastian’s body gave off. Sebastian grinned and wiggled a little as he tried to slip from the man’s grasp without waking him.

“No,” Anders groaned. “Stay. Sleep.”

“Time for me to get up, love.”

“Sun’s not even up,” Anders protested, clinging tighter.

“Oh? And how would you be able to tell down here?”

Anders smirked, still stubbornly refusing to open his eyes. “I have a nose for it.”

“I wondered why it was so big.”

The mage’s hands loosened their grip and began to wander down the planes of Sebastian’s body, trying to tempt him to stay in bed. “That is very uncharitable thing to say, Brother Sebastian.”

Sebastian felt his heart clench at the title, and he kissed Anders until it went away. “I’ll be back,” he whispered against his lips. “I’ll make it up to you then.”

Anders let him go. Sebastian watched him bury himself beneath the thin quilt, already falling back to sleep. He finally managed to pull himself away, reaching out and throwing on the closest thing at hand to cover his nakedness. It turned out to be Anders’s coat, which was too small in the shoulders and too long in the arms. Everything about Anders was long and skinny: long nose, long body, long arms and legs and feet… It brought a smile to his face. Sebastian threw one last glance at the man before sharply dropping to his knees in prayer, almost welcoming the pain that lanced up his knees as they crashed into the hard, dirt floor. He should not be reveling in his sin before prayer.

Once, Sebastian would have sang the Chant, but now he mouthed the words silently to himself. _Many are those who wander in sin, despairing that they are lost forever._ It was customary to recite from the Canticle of Transfiguration for the Morning Office, welcoming the break of dawn by praying that Andraste might banish the darkness of the world with the light of her pyre. _But the one who repents, who has faith unshaken by the darkness of the world, she shall know the peace of the Maker’s benediction. The Light shall lead her safely through the paths of this world, and into the next._

* * *

Sebastian scowled darkly at the parchment lying before him. He was owed a monthly allowance from Starkhaven’s treasury, put in place by his father when he took his vows. He had never seen a single copper of it himself; it had gone straight into the Chantry’s coffers to pay for his keep. If he wanted something, he needed only to ask Elthina and it would be provided. But ever since he had left the Chantry, his cousin had ceased payments. The message was clear: return to the Chantry and swear fealty to him, and his purse would be restored. Sebastian had gotten so far as, _To His Serene Highness Prince Goran of Starkhaven_ before he angrily scratched it out. He would not beg. He didn’t care if he starved, he would not beg.

But he needed money.

He had no idea what Anders had subsisted on all these years. Surely it could not have been the same rock-hard bread and mystery stew he had been serving Sebastian these last few months. Perhaps his demon provided some other nourishment to make up for the lack of food.

Sebastian sighed and rubbed his face irritably. He was being ungracious. He knew very well that many people survived on a lot less than what he and Anders ate. They were exceedingly well-off, considering the plight of the rest of Darktown’s inhabitants. But he wanted more. The Maker could add Greed to his list of sins, along with Pride, Wrath, and Lust.

He was about to toss the parchment into the brazier when he thought better of it. Parchment was expensive. With a sigh, Sebastian carefully tore off the top piece that had been written on, saving the rest. It was difficult thinking about money and expenses like they were actual _things_.

Anders came shuffling into their little back room then, rolling his shoulders in exhaustion. “Baby’s been delivered,” he muttered, before collapsing face first onto the bed.

Sebastian smiled and stood up from the desk, feeling ten times lighter. If he had to state the one thing he loved the most about Anders, it would be the man’s selflessness. He worked tirelessly healing the wounded and the sick, never asking for any sort of repayment. It was humbling to watch. Sebastian crawled over to the bed and straddled the mage’s hips, working his fingers into the sore and tense muscles. Anders moaned appreciatively and seemed to melt deeper into the quilt, going completely boneless. Sebastian laughed and pressed a soft kiss into the back of his neck.

“I met Hawke on the way back,” Anders’s muffled voice rose out from where he was pressed into the cot. “Has some adventure planned out on the Wounded Coast in a couple of days. Up for a walk on the beach?”

Hawke’s little ‘adventures’ always managed to draw in some coin. “Alright,” Sebastian agreed. “We could use the money. Speaking of which, I was thinking about looking for work. Outside of the clinic, I mean.”

The body beneath him erupted into peals of laughter.

Sebastian frowned in irritation and confusion, slipping off of him so that Anders could roll onto his back. The mage was laughing so hard tears were streaming from the corners of his eyes. “What are you going to do? Mine the Bone Pit?” Anders howled, holding his stomach as he shook. “I would pay good money to see that.”

“I received a princely education,” Sebastian replied waspishly. “I have skills.”

“Like what? Are you going to teach etiquette here in Darktown? Maybe we can dress you up in your armor and use you as a brazier. The city will pay you for your invaluable service as a night light.”

Sebastian felt his face grown hot with anger and embarrassment. “Archery.”

“Hm?”

“I’m a skilled archer and an excellent marksman.”

Anders snorted. “So, you’re going to become a mercenary? What would your precious Chantry say?”

“The Chantry has no authority over me any longer,” Sebastian snapped. It was almost physically painful, saying those words out loud. “I can do what I please. Maybe I’ll get a job at the Blooming Rose. You forget I wasn’t always a Brother. I have a lot of experience inside brothels. I could put that to good use. You seem to enjoy what I have to offer, after all, I’m sure I’ll have clients lining up at the door in no time.”

Anders was on top of him in a second, grounding forcefully into his hip. “I don’t know if I should be angry or turned on,” he rasped against his ear, reaching around to grab a fistful of Sebastian’s auburn hair.

Sebastian groaned and clung to the mage. _This is how this whole mess started_ , Sebastian thought distantly but then he was being kissed and he didn’t think anymore.

* * *

“You want to join the city guard?” Aveline asked, blinking rapidly as though she thought she might have misheard.

“You’ve seen me in battle, you know how skilled I am,” Sebastian insisted.

“It takes more than skill to be a guard.” Aveline rubbed her head, grimacing at the headache that was beginning to come on. “It takes dedication. Persistence. I’m not going to give you a commission, only for you to throw it away at the next thing that strikes your fancy.”

Sebastian felt the hair on the back of his neck rise at that. “I have dedication!” He insisted.

“I seem to recall you having all these grand plans to retake Starkhaven-”

“I was a Brother for over ten years! That takes dedication.”

Aveline shook her head. “Yes, you were Brother, and then you threw your vows away for Starkhaven. Then, you tossed that aside for Anders. I need people who are reliable and consistent, and I’m sorry, Sebastian, but I don’t see those qualities in you.”

“Well, thank you for your time, Guard Captain,” Sebastian said, his voice sharp and clipped. He left quickly before Aveline could say anything else. His dark mood hung over him like a black cloud all the way back to Darktown, growing larger and larger until it even tore Anders away from his manifesto when Sebastian came storming into their back room off the clinic.

“How’s the job hunting?” Anders called and Sebastian ground his teeth together as the words stung at him. Anders could never just let anything drop, could he? He had to push and push and push. He kept pushing until Sebastian found himself in a life he wasn’t even sure he wanted.

Sebastian ignored him and grabbed his bow and quiver where he had left them. He needed to shoot something. He could go over to Fenris’s mansion; the elf was always up for destroying more of Danarius’s property.

He should have known better. If there was one thing Anders hated, it was being ignored. A hand grasped his wrist, stilling his movements. There was more strength in that whip-cord thin body than one would assume. “Sebastian, what happened?” Anders asked.

“I offered my services to Aveline, but she turned me down. She said I wasn’t reliable.”

Sebastian wasn’t sure what he expected. He assumed Anders would laugh, say ‘I told you so’ in that smug voice of his. Or maybe he might even be offended on his behalf, a thought that warmed Sebastian more than he could admit.

Instead, Anders scowled heavily. “You want to become a guard?” He demanded. “I can’t believe you! Why would you think I would be even remotely alright with that?!”

Sebastian pulled his wrist away, taken aback by Anders’s sudden vehemence. “It has nothing to do with you!”

“Until they hunt me down that is! Do you know how many apostates Aveline’s betrayed to the Knight-Commander?” There was a tinge of blue to Anders’s golden eyes.

“Maleficar! She’s given her the names of maleficar!” Sebastian insisted, his voice rising to match Anders’s. “Not every mage is a helpless, lost lamb!”

The bright blue in his eyes seemed to crackle with energy, but his voice remained all Anders. “Mages only become maleficar out of desperation! We do it to survive, not because we want to! I thought you finally understood that!”

Sebastian threw up his hands, pushing angrily past the mage. “I’m not talking about this anymore. I refuse to engage your demon in any form of discussion. I’m leaving.”

“This isn’t Justice, Sebastian! This is me!” Anders called to the retreating back. “If you can’t handle that then maybe you should just go back to your Chantry!”

* * *

Sebastian did go to the Chantry. His heart carried him there, pounding with a yearning that echoed with each step of his feet. He slipped inside, noting how empty it was. Evening prayers wouldn’t begin for another hour. He silently slid into one of the back pews, watching as the clerics set about their tasks, preparing to receive worshippers for service. He wanted to join them. He wanted to regain that sense of purpose that he had somehow lost years ago, maybe even before his family died. He couldn’t recall the last time he had felt sure of his place in the world.

“I’m surprised to see you here.”

He gave a small, soft smile as Elthina glided into the seat next to him. “I may have given up the cloth, but I didn’t become a heathen, Grand Cleric.”

“And yet we haven’t seen your face at service in months.”

Sebastian looked away. “I thought it might be better if I prayed in private from now on.”

Elthina frowned in surprise. “Why? Did you think we wouldn’t want you here? Where would you get an idea like that?”

“I betrayed my vows. I betrayed your trust.” Sebastian sighed and his voice grew quiet to keep the others from overhearing. “I chose an apostate over the Chantry.”

“Sebastian!” Elthina’s voice was sharp with rebuke. “The Chantry does not turn people away, especially those who are lost. Nor do we forget one of our own.”

“But I’m not lost and I’m not one of you. Not anymore.”

“You are. You always will be.” She reached over and laid her hand on top of his, squeezing briefly. “And if you ever decide you want to return there will be a place for you.”

Sebastian pulled his hand away and looked up at her in confusion. “You mean… you don’t think it’ll last? What I have with him?”

She gave him such a pitying look, a look that said, _Nothing you have ever done has lasted_. He could almost hear her voice in his head, chastising him for his impetuousness. "Do you?“ She asked.

Sebastian returned to Anders later that night, crawling next to his still form beneath the quilt. Anders wrapped those long arms around him and squeezed him tight, like he was afraid Sebastian was going to disappear. “There’s an Antivan merchant in Lowtown by the name of Bastiano,” Anders whispered into his hair. “He’s looking for someone to teach him high society manners. Wants to become a noble. He’ll pay well, if you’re looking for something to do.”

Sebastian accepted the peace offering for what it was and kissed the mage with a hungry passion that begged for more.

* * *

Anders scowled at the cards in his hands. So much for his winning streak. With a slump and a sigh, Anders folded and Isabela cackled gleefully as she raked in her winnings. “It’s pretty late, Blondie. Well, early, I suppose. That is the sun coming up, isn’t it?” Varric squinted at the light streaming from the window before shrugging and throwing back a mug of foul ale. “Shouldn’t you be crawling back home to your duller half?”

Anders felt his mouth twist into a snarl. He’d been waking up to a cold bed for the better part of two weeks now. “I’m sure he’s already left for the Chantry. Morning service. I swear, he prays more now than he ever did when he was a brother.”

“Sounds like there’s trouble in paradise,” Isabela teased in a sing-song voice.

“We’re fine,” Anders ground out, trying to bury that feeling of dread that clawed at his chest. “Everything’s fine.”

Everything was fine. Sebastian said so himself. If the corners of his eyes tightened when he said “I love you” then that didn’t mean anything. It didn’t mean Sebastian regretted choosing Anders. It couldn’t.

Sebastian had picked him over Elthina, over his crown and throne. He hadn’t known he had meant that much to Sebastian until then, didn’t know he had meant that much to _anyone_ let alone a prince like him.

“I don’t know,” Varric said, his voice light and teasing. “Choir Boy must be feeling awfully guilty about something if he’s getting down on his knees this much.” Isabela chortled into her drink.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Come on, Blondie, you can’t think of any reason why Sebastian might suddenly be feeling the need to atone?” Varric cocked a brow at him. “The man had kept his cock under lock and key for ten years before you came along. Those Chantry mothers probably told him it’d rot off if he so much as thought about sex.”

“You make it sound like I corrupted some poor, blushing virgin.” Anders rolled his eyes. “Trust me, Sebastian gives as good as he gets.”

Varric held up his hand. “Please, spare me the details. The last thing I want to know about is who sticks what where.”

“I don’t know. I could stand to hear a little more.” Isabela grinned salaciously.

“You guys think that- what? That Sebastian’s worried he’ll go to the Void because he didn’t have a proper Chantry wedding?”

Isabela shrugged. “He believed in it enough not to indulge for years. That’s commitment. I’d throw myself off a cliff if I couldn’t have sex anymore.”

It was ridiculous, but Anders felt a heavy weight lift at thought. A heavy, black stone that had been resting in the pit of his stomach ever since Sebastian started abandoning their bed in favor of the Chantry. But if that was all there was to it, then Anders could fix that. He didn’t like the Chantry, but he could put up with it for Sebastian’s sake. At least long enough for that doddering, old biddy to wave her hand and pronounce them married.

* * *

Anders glanced at Sebastian from the corner of his eye, taking in all the subtle differences he hadn’t noticed before. He seemed… more at ease, here on the Wounded Coast than he did back in Kirkwall. He looked like the old Sebastian- and when had there become an old and new Sebastian? How had he missed that?

He’d stopped wearing that garish belt buckle. There was a just a simple, brown leather belt in its place. It was strange; Anders almost missed having Andraste stare up at him from Sebastian’s crotch, judging him. Sebastian probably thought it’d be wrong of him to wear it now that he’d broken his vow of chastity. If he liked it, he should wear it, regardless of what the Chantry thought, but Anders knew Sebastian wouldn’t see it that way.

“So, uh,” Anders started up, only to trail off nervously. Maker, this was harder than he thought.

Sebastian blinked wide blue eyes up at him and laughed. “What’s the matter, Anders? Cat got your tongue?”

“Oh, you’re hilarious, you are,” Anders mocked, but he smiled at the bounce in Sebastian’s step. “I… I wanted to ask you something.”

“Hm?”

“I was thinking that maybe we could get married or something, I don’t know.” _That wasn’t awkward at all_ , Anders thought bitterly. He knew his face must be scarlet.

Sebastian came to a sudden stop, his mouth open in shock. “Oh. No.”

“What? What do you mean ‘no’?” Anders demanded. He felt blindsided. This was what Sebastian wanted, right? If it wasn’t then… then Anders really didn’t know what else to do to make Sebastian happy.

Sebastian bit his lip and looked everywhere except Anders’s face. “I think we should talk about it when we get back to Kirkwall.”

“I want to talk about it now.”

“Is everything alright?” Hawke asked, as he and Merrill turned back to face them.

“It’s fine!” Sebastian smiled in reassurance, but Anders could see the tense creases in the corners of his eyes. He should be able to recognize it. He had seen it often enough these last few weeks.

It wasn’t fair. Sebastian couldn’t just love Anders, smile at him and kiss him, and then take it all back like it meant it nothing. Anders wanted more. He always wanted more.

* * *

They were silent as they entered their back room, Sebastian carefully avoiding his gaze as he undid the buckles of his armor. “It’s not that I don’t want you,” he said in the quiet.

“Could have fooled me,” Anders snapped and kicked his boots into the corner.

“Anders,” Sebastian sighed, his accent drawing out the name in way that always stirred something wild inside Anders. “I love you. I do. It’s just… you caught me off-guard.”

“Don’t try to placate me. I didn’t make you give up the Chantry. That was your decision. If you want to go back then go. I’m not going to stop you.”

“It’s not just the Chantry, Anders!” Sebastian burst, finally turning around to face his lover. “It’s all of this! This isn’t the life I was suppose to have!”

“So, what? I’m a mistake?”

“No!” Sebastian exclaimed, then winced. “I don’t know. It was a selfish thing for me to do, loving you. I feel like I’ve abandoned everything. My home, my duty… I just wished I had some sort of sign, reassuring me that… this will all work out.”

Andrews threw up his hands. “Well, join the rest of us that is the fucking world! The Maker isn’t going to come down here and tell you that you’re doing a bang up job. Nobody gets that kind of assurance. If you want something then you just have to take it, and if it’s a mistake then it’s a mistake, but you won’t know until you’ve tried!”

“Anders,” Sebastian started, only to be cut off by a firm mouth pressing against his own.

Anders pulled back. “Do you want to be with me?” He demanded.

“Yes,” Sebastian answered, his breath ghosting along Anders’s lips. “But I want more. I want you and I want the Chantry. I want all of it.”

Anders kissed him again, harder. Punishing. “Then be with me and I will give you more.” He pressed more kisses along his jaw and neck. “You want the Chantry, I’ll give you the Chantry. I’ll give you Starkhaven too.” Long fingers pulled on clothes. “The entire fucking world.”

Sebastian could admit he had never been very good at coming up with plans and sticking to them. So for now, he’ll leave the planning to Anders. And if they burned, they burned.


End file.
